


Clarity

by DuckieLuver07



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Bipolar Disorder, Depression, Other, Overdosing, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 02:06:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3792571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuckieLuver07/pseuds/DuckieLuver07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall loved his life. He just wasn't always sure the things around him were real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clarity

Niall loved his life. The fans, the singing, the concerts- everything about it brought a smile to his face. His job had brought about so many opportunities that he would have never have experienced otherwise. He had the life that most people only dreamed about.

There were some downsides though. For one thing, the hours sucked- he’d be recording the new album in the morning, doing interviews or a meet-and-greet in the afternoon, and then a concert at night, and then the whole thing would start over the next day. The pressure was pretty intense as well. Everything he did was scrutinized and criticized way beyond a healthy amount. The hate he got really affected him sometimes. There were only so many times he could be told that he was too fat or couldn’t sing before he started to believe it. He didn’t get to see his family a whole lot either. The boys were great, and they really knew what he was going through, but there was no substitute for your mum when you’re sick at 2 in the morning.

Niall still loved his life though, despite all these things. He couldn’t imagine doing anything else, and he shuddered to think of a world where Simon didn’t put the five of them together.

“Niall! Niall!” Niall whipped around from where he was eating his crisps (on the hotel bed, getting crumbs everywhere), but there was no one there. Obviously there was no one there. He was alone in his hotel room.

“Fans are extra loud here,” Niall laughed to himself. He decided to buy a bunch of pizzas for the ones who had gathered at the hotel as a thank you for their dedication. Why not?

It’s not like he needed the money.

He was an hour in to his television program after getting off the phone with the pizza place when Harry and Liam barged in to his room.

“Would you care to explain why 60 pizzas were just delivered to the fans outside under your name?” Liam asked as he sat down and grabbed a soda.

“60? I thought I ordered more. Is that enough for everyone?” Niall headed toward the window to make sure. The crowd looked happy- there was no riot for more pizza, so he figured there was enough.

Harry laughed and said, “It was enough, we just wanted to know why you felt the need to feed the crowd in the first place. They’re going to be expecting something like this everywhere now.”

“I don’t know, I heard them say my name, I was in a good mood. I thought it’d be nice.”

Harry and Liam shared a look. “Niall,” Liam started, “we are way too high and the walls are kind of thick. You can’t hear anything but a roar, nothing distinct.” Count on Liam to put a damper on things.

“I know what I heard Liam,” Niall said. “It’s not a big deal, we’ve got the money, might as well spend it on something fun like this. Think about how happy they probably are now.”

“I’m glad you’re having fun Niall, but don’t blow all your money on frivolous things like this,” Harry said.  
Niall resisted the urge to roll his eyes. ‘Frivolous’ was way too uppity a word for boys their age to be using. “I think I’ll be fine, lads,” he said with a smirk, turning the volume back up on his TV.  
**

Niall was trying to fall asleep when he noticed a faint ringing in his ears. Strange- they didn’t have a concert tonight, there shouldn’t be any ringing. And this sounded different than the normal after concert ringing. He couldn’t tell how, but it was. Instead of worrying about what could have caused it, or trying to get rid of it, Niall got out his headphones, and turned up his music until the noise was drowned out.  
**

 

There were too many people. They were everywhere. Breathe. He just had to get to the van. Breathe. Get to the van. Breathe. Get. To. The. Van. Breathe. That’s it. God. They were everywhere. Breathe. Grabbing at him. Yelling. Why were there so many people? Breathe. It felt like someone was wrapping a hand around his heart, squeezing it tighter. Breathe. Where was Liam? Or Zayn? Or Paul? Someone had to help him. It was getting dark. He couldn’t breathe anymore. There was no more air. He couldn’t breathe. HE COULDN’T BREATHE!  
~~~~~~

 

Niall woke up to a major headache. The room was dark, but he could hear voices.

“…but he’s never been this bad.”

“Maybe it’s getting worse? Or maybe he was just already stressed?”

“Either way, we need to up the security so this doesn’t happen again.” That was Louis, Niall was positive. Nobody else could put that much sass into a sentence laced with concern.

“Shh… he’s waking up.” Harry

“What happened?” Niall asked as he slowly sat up to look at the four boys and Paul.

The others looked at each other for a second before Liam spoke up.

“You fainted. We were mobbed on the way out of the airport, and, well, I guess the crowd was too much for you, and you just collapsed. Are you feeling better now?”

Niall ignored the question. “Please tell me it’s not trending.”

Another shared look. “Three separate ones. It was actually pretty impressive,” Louis said. Niall was sure Louis thought he was helping, but Niall would have been a lot happier with a lie. As if he wasn’t seen as the baby of the group already, now he had this hanging over his head. Perfect.

“How long have I been out?”

“Not too long, only about twenty minutes,” Zayn said. Twenty minutes, and the world already knew that he passed out because he got scared of how many people there were.

Absolutely ridiculous.

Niall groaned. “Well, if no one needs me, I’ll be over here, dying of embarrassment. Please don’t interrupt.” He lay back down, closed his eyes, tuned out the boys, and went back to sleep.  
**

 

Niall was woken up by the sound of muffled talking. It was a few days after the “incident” as he had taken to calling it in his head, and he had moved on. Mostly. If you could call “moving on” shutting down any questions about it in interviews, meet-and-greets, or on Twitter, and any concerns that the boys had, then yeah, he had definitely moved on.  
What he needed now was a good night’s sleep, and he wasn’t going to get that with what sounded like the TV on. He looked at his TV, but it was off. Actually, come to think of it, he couldn’t hear anything anymore. Weird. There was someone talking a few seconds ago, he knew it. Whatever. He could go back to sleep now.  
**

 

Driving down the freeway on his motorcycle was always refreshing. The wind in his face really made him feel alive. Slowly, as he kept moving, the air became thicker, and it became harder to breathe. A police car raced past him. Then an ambulance. Then a fire truck. What was going on? The police car stopped in front of him, causing him to stop.

The sky was becoming darker- fire was filling the air. He stepped off his motorcycle and looked around. There were cars piled up in front of him in a horrific crash. A river of blood was flowing out from the crash. There was so much blood. He heard a loud noise from above and looked up to see a helicopter flying down. The wind started to blow everything around as the noise got louder. He pressed himself against the wall, covering his eyes from the wind and debris. The helicopter was getting closer. He could smell the burnt flesh and the coppery smell of the blood behind him. He gagged. It was too much to handle.

Niall shot up out of bed and gasped.  
**

 

Niall stared at himself in the mirror and wondered what the people on the other side thought of him. He always tried to look his best, because he never knew when they were watching. They could be behind any mirror though, so he was always careful. Didn’t want to do something embarrassing in front of them. He vaguely wondered how people acted when they didn’t know there were people on the other side, but that was stupid. Everyone knew that they were always being watched.

 

**  
Another concert was over. Finally. Niall wished the tour was closer to being over, but they hadn’t even reached the halfway mark yet. It just wasn’t fun anymore. Was there ever a time when it was fun? It was just exhausting. That’s all it was. Niall could barely find the energy or the will to update his Twitter, let alone put on a full concert. Come to think of it, nothing really interested him anymore. He had turned down multiple invitations for golf, parties, and just invites to hang out. He just wanted to sleep. He probably slept more than Zayn nowadays, which was a feat in itself. But it didn’t matter how much he slept- he was still always tired. Niall felt tears well up in his eyes as he thought of how overwhelming everything was, but he didn’t cry.

He couldn’t.  
**

 

Niall looked around and sighed. There was no one anywhere near him- no TV or radios on either. Yet he could hear a faint muttering, like someone had the TV on kind of low. This was happening a lot. He could almost make out what was being said, but if he concentrated too hard on it, it gave him a headache. There was definitely more than one voice though. Two women and a man. The women didn’t bother him so much- they were just a distant chatter in the back of his head. The man though, he was scary. Even though it was quiet, and muffled, Niall could tell that he was angry. There was just something about his voice that scared him.

 

**  
Recording for a new album was something that Niall had definitely improved at over the years since One Direction had started. He could add in the harmonies when necessary, he could jump in on any part that they needed, and he had the patience to sing the same line over again twenty different ways.

For some reason though, he just wasn’t getting it today. Julian had called him in early to record part of their new album, and Niall was just failing. It wasn’t like the song was difficult- Niall just wasn’t getting it. He had been singing for over an hour, and he was disappointed in himself. He was better than this. He knew that. Why couldn’t he get this part right?

Julian sighed as he took his headphones off and looked over at Niall. “What’s up, Niall? You never take this long for a part. Is it too hard? Should I give it to one of the other boys?”

Niall panicked. He should give it away. He couldn’t do it. He was a failure. Why did he think he could do this? He couldn’t sing. He couldn’t do any of this. Why did he ever think he could be a singer? He couldn’t even breathe.

Niall felt the hand squeeze his heart again. It was too much to handle. If he didn’t record this song, he would be kicked out of the band. They barely needed him anyway. Where would he go? Everyone knew that he was in One Direction- it’s not like he could go back and sing in pubs or something. His life was over. He had to get this part down.

“…Niall?” Niall looked up to see that Julian was standing over him, looking concerned. “There we go; I’ve been trying to get your attention for five minutes. What happened?”  
Niall looked at him, but wasn’t sure how to respond. As soon as he heard the words, it was like they floated out of his head again. He had too much to concentrate on without focusing on what his friend was saying.

“Can I try again?” He asked, figuring that with one more chance, he could hit the part, and secure his spot in the band.

Julian blinked. “Um, yeah, but are you sure you’re alright? It’s okay if you need to take a break.”

“No,” Niall said, his voice firm, “I need to do this.” Did Julian not understand how important this was?

“Okay, well, we’ll try one more time, but then I want you to go lie down until the concert. You look wiped,” Julian said, heading back to his controls and putting his headphones back on.

Niall wasn’t sure if it was the fear or the fact that the hand still had his heart firmly clenched, but he nailed the part perfectly that time.  
**

 

Niall was singing at one of their many concerts. He was impressed that he knew all the lyrics, because the song was a brand new one that they hadn’t rehearsed. The roar of the crowd let him know that he had their approval, and that was all he needed to keep going. He saw signs throughout the crowd that gave encouragement, thanked him and the other boys for everything, and several sexual comments. He was halfway through the song when he heard a crash, and everything went dead silent. He turned around to see that the stage had gone dark. A light, one of the huge spot lights that hung over the stage, had fallen. As Niall walked closer, he realized that not only had it fallen, but it had fallen on Harry. His eyes were wide open in shock, and blood poured from around his body. The other boys were screaming around him. Harry was dead. Harry was dead. Harry was dead.

Niall shot up out of bed, panting.  
**

 

“Niall, you really need to stop buying the fans all this random stuff,” Zayn said as he sat next to him on the couch. “For one thing, you’re going to go broke, but for another, you’re making me look bad.”

Niall didn’t bother looking up from his phone. The boys had been on him lately for ‘wasting’ his money on buying food, trinkets, and other surprises for the fans that waited outside their hotel. He didn’t care. It was fun, and it made the fans happy. That’s what counted, right? He wasn’t even sure how many pounds he had spent over the past couple of weeks, but he knew his accountants weren’t happy.

“It doesn’t matter how much I spend. There will always be more money. There’s so much, I won’t be around long enough to see it all disappear.”

Zayn blinked, obviously not expecting a response like that. “Well, at the rate your going, it’s going to be gone sooner rather than later,” he said.  
Niall stood up and muttered, “So will I,” under his breath before he walked into the bathroom. He had locked the door behind him before Zayn had figured out what he said, and ran after him.  
**

 

It was yet another interview for yet another news program at some God-forsaken hour of the morning. Niall had just finished getting dressed and was almost finished getting his hair done.

“Alright lads,” Liam started as he buttoned up his shirt, “we have the interview here, then an hour break before the radio interview and then the meet-and-greet… Niall? Are you listening?”

Niall jerked his head up from where he had leaned forward. Lou had finished with his hair, and he just leaned his head forward to rest his eyes for a few seconds.

“Yeah, Liam,” he said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I just got tired for a second there. We have another interview, right?”

Liam sighed. “Yes, please try and pay attention during the show,” he said.

Niall tried- he really did, but there was just something blocking his mind from listening to a lot of what was being said around him. Anything that was said seemed to flow in one ear and out the other before his brain could process what had been said. To make matters worse, Niall was being distracted by someone talking. The weird mutterings that he had been hearing lately were back, and Niall just needed to know what they were saying. He had asked the other boys if they heard anything, but they had just looked at him confusedly. He gave up asking, and just concentrated on listening to the voices. He couldn’t tell what was being said, but he could tell he was missing what was happening in the interview. It seemed he always needed to ask someone to repeat the question they just asked him. At the end of it, the boys were agitated.

“Did you listen to anything that was said during the show, Niall?” Harry asked as they walked out of the room.

“Of course, Harry. I only missed one or two questions. Don’t make such a big deal out of it.”

That was a lie, he knew he missed at least two more than that, but honestly, he lost track. He couldn’t keep track anymore. He needed to stop listening to the voices and start listening to what people were saying around him.  
**

 

It was another long day during a meet-and-greet. Niall was smiling and posing for what felt like the thousandth time that day when a girl came up to him with a huge smile on her face.

“Hi, love, would you like a picture?” Niall asked, seeing that the other boys were still saying goodbye to the last group.

The girl scoffed and dropped her smile. “As if I’d want a picture with you. You’re such a waste to this band- everyone knows it. I’m amazed they haven’t kicked you out yet. By the way, I sat outside your hotel room all night, and you didn’t buy us anything. We waited forever.”

Niall felt his heart twinge, and his stomach clenched up. He focused on breathing, as that seemed to be the main problem he was having. After a few seconds, he was able to say,

“I’m sorry you feel that way. And I don’t always buy food or whatever- it’s only been a few times. I’m sorry.”

The girls’ glare didn’t fade. “Whatever. It’s not like we should have expected anything less coming from you.” At this point, Niall was sure his heart would give out. Disappointing the fans was something he could not handle- he could never handle it. His heart was being clenched again, and he just needed to cry. God. When did he become so pathetic?

He’s had fans say worse things to him- he’s never let it affect him this much.

Without another word to the girl, he turned around, told Paul he wasn’t feeling well, and headed to their break room. He locked the door behind him, hoping to buy himself some time alone.

Zayn was right. The fans were expecting it, and when he didn’t deliver, they were disappointed in him. He couldn’t take it. He lived to please them. It’s what his career survived on, but more than that, he loved it. The feeling of elation every time a fan beamed at him when he signed something, or took a picture- it was like crack. Disappointing them was the worst feeling in the world.

He lay on the couch of the break room, curled up in the fetal position, for the rest of the meet-and-greet. He worked on getting his breathing under control, and barely managed to avoid a panic attack. He wanted to cry- needed to really, but he couldn’t. His eyes burned with the unshed tears, but nothing came out, and his heart still feeling like it was being clenched. He kept focusing on his breathing, and was able to calm his emotions down. By the time the boys came in, he was able to speak normally again, and tell them that he just wasn’t feeling well, and that he was better now. Thankfully, they believed him.  
**

 

Niall wanted to cry. He didn’t know why- there was nothing particularly sad happening right now. But he could feel it inside him. He needed to cry. There was a tightness in his chest that he couldn’t explain, and he knew he would feel better if he just let it out and cry. He couldn’t though. Something was stopping him. Why couldn’t he cry? He needed to! His eyes felt like they were welling up, but they wouldn’t produce tears for him. He was stuck. Finally, he let exhaustion overwhelm him and he fell asleep.  
**

 

Louis walked in to see Niall watching Inception. Niall scooted over to let Louis sit on the bed next to him, and handed the popcorn over to him. “Aren’t you sick of this movie yet?” Louis asked him, “It’s got to be the 8th time watching it just this week.”

Niall didn’t answer at first. He needed to sort through his thoughts. Eventually, he forgot what Louis had asked. “How do you think those work?” he asked instead, pointing to the totems that the characters in the movie were making.

Louis watched the screen for a second before replying, “I would assume you know by now, seeing as you have to have this movie memorized. The totem works differently in the dream than it does in reality. That’s how they tell it apart.”

“But how are they able to bring them into the dreams?” Niall asked, almost desperately. He had tried, so many times, but it had never worked.

“How? Well, the fact that they’re characters in a movie helps a lot. Why? You needing a way to tell your dreams from reality?” Louis asked with a smirk.

Niall though, didn’t crack a smile. He didn’t even look away from the television. “I just want to be sure.” Louis’ smile dropped.

“What do you mean you want to be sure? Sure that you’re not dreaming?”

Niall blinked, and then turned to face Louis for the first time. “Aren’t you ever scared that this is a dream? All of this?”

Louis laughed, “I know we always say we’re living our dreams, but this is actually real, Niall.”

“But how do you know?” Niall asked, looking up at Louis pleadingly. “I’m just not sure anymore that this is real, or that what I’m dreaming is actually a dream.”

“What do you mean you you’re not sure that your dreams are dreams? You’re kind of freaking me out, Niall,” Louis said.

“You’re freaking out?” Niall’s voice rose higher and louder as he continued on, “how do you think I feel? Every night I dream these horrible things- car accidents and plane crashes and blood, blood everywhere. And I know it’s real. I can hear, feel, taste, smell, read, sing! I’ll be walking down the street and think ‘obviously this is real. I can feel the wind on my face. I can hear cars driving by. I can see people in those cars- they have a life, they have a story. This can’t be a dream.’ And then I wake up.  
So how do I know that I’m awake this time? How do I know for sure? What’s stopping all this from being a dream as well? I might wake up one day and One Direction might not exist. Heck, I might wake up and not even be Niall! This whole universe might be fake for all I know!”

By this point, Niall was standing up, shouting, and sobbing. His screaming had brought the attention of the other boys and a few security people into the room, and they were crowding in through the door.

“…Niall?” Harry asked hesitatingly. “Are you okay?”

Niall took a deep breath to get his breathing under control, wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and looked up at the boys. “I don’t think so,” he said, “but it doesn’t really matter, does it? I don’t even know how much longer I’ll be here.”

“Niall, this isn’t a dream,” Liam said, the slightest edge of panic in his voice.

“Do you know how many times I’ve heard that? How many times I’ve accepted the fact that something was real, only to wake up again? This feels real, but it always does. I know this is real, but at the same time, there’s this nagging doubt that just tells me that this is all a dream. How do I know?” By the end of his rant, Niall was almost hyperventilating.

Paul walked in at this point, grabbing Niall’s attention. “Alright, Niall, I’m going to need you to come with me,” he said, firmly grasping his arm.

“No!” Niall shouted, yanking his arm out of Paul’s grip. He started heading for the bathroom, fully intent on locking himself in, when Liam grabbed him around the middle. “Liam! Leave me alone! I told you! This isn’t real! It’s just like the movie- I’ll wake up and nothing will be real!”

“But how will you wake up?” Zayn asked, stepping in front of Niall, who was still being held by Liam. “They could only wake up if they die. Is that how you intend on doing it as well then?”

“Sometimes I do,” Niall said, ignoring the gasps he heard. “Other times I just wait long enough and I wake up on my own.”

“But you’ve been here a long time,” Zayn reasoned.

Harry jumped in, “that’s right. Dreams don’t last this long!”

Niall scoffed. “There are no set rules about dreams. There are no set rules about anything. This whole universe might just be made up.”

“So why not just go along with it then?” Louis asked.

“What do you mean?” Niall was suspicious. He had every right to be- it wasn’t often that his dreams acknowledged that they were in fact dreams.

“Well, if you are dreaming, then you might as well go with Paul, who we all know is going to take you to some sort of shrink or crazy house and get you fixed up. But then you’ll wake up at some point, so really, you’re just humoring us. Your ‘dream-mates’ I guess you could call us.”

“But why should I waste my time getting ‘fixed up at a crazy house’ as you so lovingly put it?”

Louis scoffed. “Do you have something better to do? You said it yourself- your dreams are mostly nightmares filled with blood and death.” He looked around, “no one here is dying. You’re a bloody pop star- this world is great for you. Might as well enjoy this dream, because it’s actually the best one you’ve had.”

Harry and Zayn looked like they wanted to smack Louis at this point, but he had Niall’s attention. It was true- this life was amazing. And maybe if he went along with it, someone could help him.

The buzzing in his ears was getting louder, to the point where it was getting distracting. He was having trouble concentrating, but he knew that he could depend on these people for help. He wished he could just go to sleep… he was so exhausted, but he knew he couldn’t. He let Louis lead him out of the room, and Paul directed them to a van.

“It’s going to be a bit of a drive,” Paul said, “why don’t you rest for a bit.”

“I’ve got him,” Louis told Paul, making sure Niall was comfortable. Niall wasn’t sure where the other boys were, but he felt safe wrapped up in Louis’ arms. He slept, for once, without dreaming.  
**

 

“You’re lucky we were able to diagnose it so early,” Dr. Goya said. She was a nice woman, but Niall wasn’t sure how he felt about her. He had told her of everything that happened, and she had thrown back words like, “depressed,” and “bipolar.” Now she was trying to convince him that it was good that they diagnosed it. That many people went around without a diagnosis, and weren’t able to get the help they needed. She loaded Niall down with different medications- one for sleep, one for depression, and one for ‘clarity.’

“Niall? Niall? Are you listening?” Niall whipped his head back to where Dr. Goya was talking. His focusing was another problem that he needed to work on, apparently. “Niall, I was saying that you should probably take some time off of work…”

“No,” Niall interrupted her. There was no way he would stop being in One Direction for any length of time.

“It would just be until your medications are under control, your job is stressful.”

“I’ve never had a problem doing my job,” she knew everything that had happened; she knew that was a lie. “I don’t see why I need to stop now.”

Dr. Goya sighed. Niall leaned back on his couch. He wished it was one of the ones that he could lay down on and talk about his life, like in the movies, but it wasn’t. It was just a normal couch that he had to sit on. He looked up to see that Dr. Goya was talking again.

“…your manager has already agreed to it, and it would just be for a short amount of time.”

Niall was furious. No, furious was putting it lightly. How could they make that decision without him? Why would they do that? The fury inside of him felt like it would burst out. He wanted to yell at the doctor- make her feel as bad as he did. Before he could though, he felt the anger kind of shrink away. What did it matter anyway? He finished up the appointment, thanked the doctor, and headed out to the waiting room where Paul and Louis were waiting for him.  
**

 

It was a few weeks later, and an especially long, hard day. He had been called out by two different fans, and then his voice had cracked during one of his solos during the concert. But it was okay. Niall had been taking his medications religiously (mostly because he had four mother hens watching his every move), and he could feel the changes. He was able to differentiate the dreams from reality, and the nightmares were almost gone. The stress- the crushing of his heart- that was gone. Before, a day like today would have really messed him up, but now? Now he could count on his pills to make him feel better. 2 pills for clarity, 1 for his depression, and 2 for sleep.

There were some things that hadn’t really changed though. For one thing, he could still hear some voices and the buzzing in his ear. He also couldn’t get past the nagging feeling that he was being watched. He didn’t voice any of his concerns though. The last thing he wanted was another couple of weeks off of work. They had told the fans that he had bronchitis, and that’s why he couldn’t go to the concerts. The fans were concerned, of course, but Niall was crushed. He felt like he was letting everyone down. That crushing feeling took a lot to get over. Thankfully, the boys were there for everything. They were amazing through it all. They asked questions, looked up what was wrong with Niall, and really tried their best to understand what he was going through. It was amazing, and Niall couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have them in his life.

They were the main reason he was still here, actually. He had refused to tell his family what had happened, so he had broken almost all ties with them for fear of letting something slip. He was no longer allowed to spend ridiculous amounts of money on the fans anymore (Dr. Goya said that he was on a ‘manic spree’, and that he was lucky he hadn’t spent everything, and that was all he did with his money. But, without that connection, he felt like he had distanced himself from the fans again, especially since he couldn’t be truthful with his Tweets all the time. For one thing, he couldn’t let them know what he was doing right now- taking 2 pills for clarity, 1 for his depression, and 2 for sleep.

But still, he was doing better- Niall could admit it even as he took his pills. . 2 pills for clarity, 1 for his depression, and 2 for sleep. Look at that. The bathroom mirror. He could look at it and know no one is watching him on the other side. And it’s all because of his pills. Speaking of which, he should probably take them. 2 pills for clarity, 1 for his depression, and 2 for sleep.

He was already starting to feel tired. Maybe he wouldn’t take his sleeping pills tonight. But that helped keep his nightmares away, so he needed to make sure he took all his medication. . 2 pills for clarity, 1 for his depression, and 2 for sleep.

Niall felt a little sick. He was tired- so, so tired. He just needed to take his pills really quick, and then he’d go to sleep. He opened up his bottles, and noticed that his hands were shaking. 2 pills for clarity, 1 for his depression, and 2 for sleep.

He swallowed them quickly, and collapsed to the ground. He started to shiver violently, grasping onto his knees and curling up into the fetal position. The rug of the bathroom wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, but Niall couldn’t imagine getting up and moving. Except to maybe throw up. He was so sick. But he couldn’t get up. His muscles were seizing up. He could barely breathe. He could feel the bile crawling up his throat as he tried to get on his knees. He coughed and tried to clear his throat, but it wasn’t coming out. He couldn’t get any air in, and it was starting to get black around the edge of his vision.

As he collapsed to the ground, Niall heard the door bang open, and someone yell his name. He couldn’t answer. He couldn’t move. The blackness was consuming him.

Niall hoped he’d wake up again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work on this site, so I hope you like it! Hopefully the ending made sense, but if not, just ask! Thanks for reading!  
> *** Since it was my first work, I didn't know how the formatting worked, so I fixed that. Hopefully now it's readable!


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